You Are
by iS2.coheed.and.cambria
Summary: Tag to Mystery Spot – Sam’s pretty sure he’s going crazy but he’s not exactly sure.


**Title: **You Are

**Author: **T (language)

**Summary: **Tag to Mystery Spot – Sam's pretty sure he's going crazy but he's not exactly sure.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Supernatural. Nuff said.

**A/N:** Ok I don't know if anyone agrees with me but if you asked me I would say that my favorite episode of SPN is Mystery Spot. I don't know what anyone else thinks but that's what I think. However, even through it's unbelievable-ness / amazing-ness the episode could have used some more closure (angst) to wrap up everything Sam had gone through (reinforce his MAN PAIN!).

Hope you like.

P.S. – I know there are only a bagillion tags to this episode (which are all amazing) but give it a chance. I know this would be a helpful thing to put in the summary but w/e…

Spoilers for basically everything up until Mystery Spot I think.

- - - - - -

"You're either manic or you're depressed, 

_Will you ever be okay? "_

_-'Sunrise, Sunset' Bright Eyes_

So it's like this.

(My life) is like this:

My life is something past perfect symmetry. Something three steps south of _ohmygodohmygod_.

I'm on the edge of insanity I think. I'm playing with words like "committed". I'm dancing through loony bins and mental institutions. Because my life is organized chaos. It's 'oxymoron'. Jumbo shrimp. Whatever. But I'm not crazy

And guess what! I'm so skilled at this insanity thing. I can kill, I can _murder._ I can be what they all said I was meant to be and not even care. Because when you're like this you're _allowed _that type of behavior. I can hear them whispering, "Don't worry, he's allowed to just stand there staring at us… He's mentally challenged."

Mentally challenged. Sure.

But I'm not crazy.

And I just love how I continue to slip out of the fingers of the law every damn time. Like some divine god of the mentally unstable wants me to continue searching. Searching for it.

The dictionary (in a state of mind that prevents normal perception, behavior or social interaction; seriously mentally ill) can't give me a true definition.

I don't want to be crazy. I know it seems like I do but I really don't. I just want to be what Dean wants me to be.

He tells me though. He tells me all the time he says "You're not crazy, Sam. You're focused. You're focused on finding the trickster." And I listen because I always listen to my brother when I'm unsure of myself.

So if Dean says I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm whatever synonym possible, but not crazy, not crazy.

I drive a lot now. I get in the car and throw my stuff in the back seat, never in the passengers because that's where Dean's sitting and he hates it when I throw stuff on his lap. I did once and he yelled at me and I don't like being called crazy because that's what he calls me when I'm being stupid but it doesn't matter because he always tells me afterwards that I'm not, I'm not crazy.

So I'm not crazy.

So I drive through states and Dean gets hungry a lot and I have to get out and get the food because last time I asked Dean to he had me sitting in the car waiting for almost an hour and didn't even come back with anything.

Sometimes people stare at me when I ask him what he wants but then they just wink and think 'it's ok, he's mentally challenged'. But not crazy. Never crazy.

I rent motels a lot too now because Dean never wants to go in. He never wants a bed anymore either he says he'll just sleep on the floor or in the Impala give me a chance to think _whereareyoutrickster?whereareyoutrickster? _

Bobby calls so much but I never answer the phone, Dean just says, "Let the voicemail take it we've got more hunting to do!" And that's what I do. It's getting harder and harder to say no to Dean. It just doesn't seem logical anymore.

Dean's been different since that Wednesday that he got shot. I keep telling him I'm pretty sure he died but he just says no and that's enough. Dean didn't die because Dean said so.

Dean doesn't have to use the motel room anymore to bring home girls. Dean doesn't have my back anymore on hunts. He never wants to drive and when I put the food out in front of him he doesn't eat it. He never showers anymore I don't think… I've never seen him sleep either but when I ask him he just says, "Stop worrying and get back to researchin'." And I do because that's easier than thinking, "What if Dean's not really there?" It's easier than thinking, "Maybe I am crazy."

I hate to sleep but Dean tells me I need to. When I dream I see Dean dead on the floor in that motel parking lot with blood gushing from his chest. And in those hour-long moments of my dream I realize I am crazy. I realize that Dean's not there and that I'm all alone talking to the passengers seat or turning the music up just a notch louder because the wind told me to. In my dream I can see myself furiously cutting his food or smoothing a ridiculously insignificant wrinkle out of the bed sheet. Dreaming is hard. Being awake is so much easier.

- - - - - - -

Hunting is so different now. Dean somehow seems to know exactly where the next hunt is without ever looking anywhere to research it. I questioned a couple times but then I realized it was easier just to put the car in drive and go. Go to where ever Dean's god-like knowledge of the continental U.S. takes us (me).

Every time I beg Dean to come and help me out on this hunt but he says no. He says I have to learn to hunt on my own and that he'll be waiting in the car for me to come back. I hunt like a robot, like an evil-killing machine and no one is around to tell me to stop or do any different. I don't like hunting because that's when I have to be alone… It's in my dreams I realize Dean can't come with me because if he does I'll depend on him and get us (myself) killed.

But I don't like to think about dreams so never mind.

- - - - - - -

It's on the two-month hump that I start to think that Dean's not there. I start to test him, ya know? Like "so if you're really here pick up the remote" and he just says "quit screwing around, you want to find this trickster or not?"

And I just think, "If Dean's here why do I need to find the trickster? If everything's fine then why are we wasting all this time trying to find a trickster and not trying to get Dean out of his deal? Shouldn't that be a more pressing issue? Huh?"

But no Dean says find the trickster and I say okay.

It's one day that we're trying to find the exact location of some vampire nest when I finally say what I've been thinking for a week. And then it all goes down hill from there in the form of some stupid exchange.

It all starts with me whispering, "I don't think you're really here."

"What?"

"I said I don't think you're really here."

"Sam, what the hell are you talking about? Of course I'm here!"

"No! Then why don't you ever hunt with me anymore?"

"I'm sick of the hunt and I need to-"

"No! No! No! You never pick up girls at bars. You don't eat! You don't sleep! You don't take showers but you're always clean and you never shave but you always have that same shave you had two fucking months ago! You're wearing the same clothes always, the same as that fucking Wednesday! You've been lying to me for two months, you're dead, Dean!"

Dean winces and says nothing at first. I try to catch my breath and wait for what seems like forever for him to confirm my fears before he whispers, "You couldn't handle being alone. You needed me that's why you created me."

My eyebrows furrow, "What?'

"You created me Sam. And now you obviously don't need me anymore. You have to handle this on your own. Find the trickster on your own."

Dean stood up and suddenly I did too, trying to block him but he just walked right _through_ me and out the door. I ran after him desperately screaming, "No Dean, don't leave! Please stay I do need you, please! Come back!"

I ran into that motel hallway and there was no one there and I'm screaming 'Dean' and 'Please' but all the people just think _mentallychallengedmentallychallenged_ and ignore me. And Dean leaves me a sobbing heap on the motel lobby floor.

- - - - - - -

It's after Dean leaves me that I think I start to loose myself.

I don't talk anymore, only to order food or get a motel room and when I do I stutter. Say "O-one-e-e r-room-m p-p-plea-se," and try to ignore the looks as I take my key and shrink away.

Every time I get to a new room I go through my new found routine. First I put my duffle bag I the North corner and take my toiletries bag and put it to the right of the sink. I lay out all of the items I would need in the order in which I would need them. All of them perfectly symmetrical. I take the papers from my brief case and tape them to the wall, again all perfectly symmetrical. This routine can take hours but it needs to be done.

I still order food for two and try to control my thoughts of _you'rewastingfoodSam_ and _don'tspillitSam_. I think maybe if I get Dean some food he'll come back and that's a comforting thought.

But I'm not OCD.

I'm not crazy, I promise.

But Dean doesn't come back. I haven't seen him since he walked out and that's forced everything to go to hell. The only thing good now is the dreams. Now I dream about holding that tricksters life in my hands and killing it. Getting Dean back. I dream about things that are actual _dreams_ of mine. Now I can escape to sleep when this Dean-less world gets a little too hard to handle.

And in the back of my mind when I don't here _you'recrazySam_ I know that I'm going to find that trickster and I'm going to get Dean back. I know that's not even an if it's a when. I just try to focus on everything being good again. Because the Tuesday time loop was bad and the 'Dean being there but not really being there' and 'being crazy' was a tiny bit worse, but this, this is rock-bottom.

It's only been a month and I'm starting to forget what Dean's voice sounds like. I used to call his voicemail but now the service had been cut off and I can't even hear it. I used to call my voicemail and listen to voicemails he had left me and I'd accidentally saved but then one day I deleted them and now I can't hear him at all anymore.

It's only been a month but god. I'm already starting to forget what he looks like. I realize now that they never took the time to take pictures and now there is none of him. And his jacket is starting to loose his smell and one of his casket tapes broke and living without Dean is getting harder by the second and I don't think I can take this much longer. I need to find the trickster. I need Dean back now.

I hear _Samyou'resofuckedup_ and I can't fucking block it out.

Because by now it's been a month and a half of tip-toeing around empty motel rooms and being careful not to let anything fall out of symmetry. Three months of being numb and making beds and brushing my teeth until they bleed and leaving food out for Dean for him to never claim and looking at that smug smile on the face of that trickster on my wall.

A month and a half of wondering if this is what Dean would want for me.

And after all of that hell I check my voicemail one day and actually listen to a message from Bobby.

"I've found him."

And everything changes.

I throw everything in the Impala and race back to that town where all of this started and when I get there I see one of Bobby's cars outside and think _finallyfinally_ over and over.

Seeing Bobby is the most surreal thing ever. Sure I see people all the time but that's not the problem.

All the time I see strangers. I see people who didn't know who I was before that Wednesday (before I went crazy). But Bobby knows me; hell he's like family like he even eventually says. I can see when he looks at me he think _Samyou'resofuckedup_ even though he says 'It's good to see you, boy'. I'm not a boy. And we talk about killing someone and I just don't care. I want to kill to get my brother back. I want to do whatever it fucking takes. Bobby doesn't understand. I'm not backing down from anything. I can't, I can't let Dean down.

Now he's asking me to let him bring Dean back in the form of his life and I think _Bobby'snotthisstupid_ and _Bobbyyou'resofuckedup _and but it sort of gets jumbled so I'm not entirely sure but I say yes anyway because _Dean. _Dean needs me.

And I drive that stake through his heart and watch him fall down to the floor and feel his blood soaking through my shirt. And I wait and think _ohgodikilledBobby_ before he flickers and disappears. The stake flies threw the air and finds the hand of _it._

I don't know what to do and suddenly I feel tired. I just feel like begging.

After all this time thinking I'd get Dean back only by killing this thing but now I'm too fucking tired to fight I just need him back. Just give him back, please…

See, it's been some 14 weeks or 100 something days (104) of about finding this trickster and goddammit I find it. What now? Tell me! What do I do now?

I've only spent every second thinking and dreaming about this moment. God. I never thought about what I'd say. How I'd make him understand. And now the only justification I can muster from my temporarily paralyzed fibers of my being are: "He's my brother" and "please".

"Please, just…" he's face tightens, "Please."

And he snaps his fingers and I think: Jesus. Just… God.

- - - - - - -

I wake up same as always. Eyes open wide. Straight up in bed. Ready. Ready to hunt. But I hear 'back to the future song' and my mind un-jumbles a little and I see him. And I think my last jumbled thought: _ohgoditswednesdayandit'sbacktothefuturesongandthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou._

And then I just think _Dean._

I hold my brother so desperately and I feel so at home because I can _feel _him. And I familiarize myself with his smell and his voice and just _Dean. _It's done. After all of that pain and loneliness it's all done.

And I think: Now what?

- - - - - -

Dean mumbles something about me being an overprotective parent but I'm deep in thought. He's joking but all I can do is smile a fake smile and try not to cringe at the disorderly room. The un-made bed makes me want to slit my wrists and the smell… Oh god the smell makes me think I'm not completely cured of my insanity.

When I sit in the passengers seat of the car I feel so strange and when I see that trunk I try to control my gag reflex. Dean mutters what clean-queen crawled up my ass but I don't say anything.

He says "Look out it's a dust bunny!" and I try to laugh.

We've driving for a few hours I think and I haven't said anything. I guess talking is something I've partly forgotten how to do. I look over at Dean and see his short hair barely blowing in the breeze of the open window and I can't help myself but say.

"It wasn't just the time loop. There was more."

He looks over at me and winces knowing it can't be good and says, "I knew there was something else. What happened?"

"You died." I whisper, barely audible.

"Yeah but wasn't that what happened everyday? I mean –"

"No." I say firmly, "You died. Permanently. For three and a half-months actually. And I went insane. I spent the first two months thinking you were still alive and just… and you would tell me what to do and I would just listen and then when I finally questioned you… You left me. And I was alone for a month and a half at least until I finally tracked down the trickster and ended it and I mean like 5 hours ago I was driving back to that town where it all started ready to do whatever it took to get you back. And now you're back and it's just strange. It's Wednesday three and a half months ago and it's just like… It'll never be the same. And I feel like even though it's over I'm still crazy… No I'm not crazy, but god what if I am…"

Dean looks at me like he's nervous. Like he's worried and what can I say? He probably should be. But even with all the worry spread across his face he still says what I've been dying to hear for three and a half months.

"Don't worry, ok? It's all going to be ok."

And that's it.

I realize that even though it seems like this means everything is going to be okay it really means everything is going to be really not.

After all of this there's only one thing there is to really say.

"Jesus. Just… God."

FIN 

- - - - - - -

**A/N: **Hmmm I wonder if any of that made any sense. Let me know. Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and review, love you guys!

-Lilia thinks _clickthebuttonclickthebuttconclickthebutton_


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